"A strange man!" exclaimed the lady with a terrific scream.
Mr. Pickwick put out his head in desperation.
"Wretch!" she said, covering her face with her hands. "What do you want here?"
"Nothing, ma'am—nothing whatever, ma'am," said Mr. Pickwick earnestly. "I am almost ready to sink, ma'am, beneath the confusion of addressing a lady in my nightcap (here the lady snatched off hers) but I can't get it off, ma'am! (here Mr. Pickwick gave it a tremendous tug). It is evident to me now that I have mistaken this bedroom for my own."
"If this be true," said the lady sobbing violently, "you will leave it instantly."
"Certainly, ma'am," answered Mr. Pickwick appearing, "I—I—am very sorry, ma'am."
The lady pointed to the door. With his hat on over his nightcap, his shoes in his hand and his coat over his arm, Mr. Pickwick opened the door, dropping both shoes with a crash. "I trust, ma'am," he resumed, bowing very low, "that my unblemished character—" but before he could finish the sentence the lady had thrust him into the hall and bolted the door.
Luckily Mr. Pickwick met, coming along the corridor, the faithful Sam Weller who took him safely to his room.
V
THE PICKWICKIANS FIND THEMSELVES IN THE
GRASP OF THE LAW. THE FINAL EXPOSURE
OF JINGLE, AND A CHRISTMAS
MERRYMAKING
Mr. Pickwick was still indoors next morning, when Sam, strolling through the town, met, coming from a certain garden-gate, the wily Job Trotter. Job tried at first to disguise himself by making a horrible face, but Sam was not to be deceived, and finding this trick vain, the other burst into tears of joy to see him.